The Enterprise Incident
by Xeen Cyr
Summary: This is a 10 part story. Each member has a different viewpoint regarding an incident related to T'Pol's behaviour....
1. Commander Charles Tucker Log

Title: Commander Tucker Personal Log  
Fandom: Enterprise  
Summary: Trip's rant

Pairing: none  
Rating: G

Author: Yes!

Flaming: NO ;o)  
Archive: if you ask for this story to be archived on your site I will probably say yes but please ask!

Disclaimer: Trek ain't mine. What a shame… Just playing.

Author's Note: this is the first instalment of the series 'The Enterprise Incident'

**Commander Tucker Personal Log – ****  
**© Xeen

Commander Tucker Personal Log –

Trip paused, eyes riveted on the stars outside the window. The humming of the engines was clear and steady and he shrugged. Why does he have to bother about THAT? It was none of his business and probably a mere incident. So far everything has been smooth enough on the bridge, he argued pointlessly with himself.  
But he could not help but being somewhat concerned. For all he knew, Jonathan Archer was the best friend he ever had and a fine captain and it did feel right to react.  
Did it?  
He sighed loudly and waved his hands to the console.  
"Computer resume log. I was thinking this morning about the way we've all noticed T'Pol really opening up in regards to Jon these past few weeks. Computer pause."  
Trip began pacing in his quarters and eventually ended with his forehead against the transparent shield, frustrated by the abstract sensation. No cold nor warmth.  
Why am I doing this ? If anyone happens to find out the slightest clue in that matter Starfleet sure will take action against it. And if not, that darn tight ass Vulcan Counsel definitely will take action and will be eager to take her back to their desolated homeworld!  
Even in deep space, regs apply.  
He crossed his fingers behind his head and looked at the ceiling. When he was back on Earth, he will get hold of that stupid designer and crush his head against the structure. What was it designed for? Blind midgets? He could not stand bumping repeatedly against those beams and watching that awful grey coating everywhere in all its variations any more!  
"Computer resume… Then I started thinking about psychological patterns. And ended with the only logical conclusion. Wow, wow, wow! Wait a minute here !" – arms waving and a deep frown darkening his eyes, he came to a brutal stop. – "computer pause!"  
What's going on here? That Vulcan train of thought seems to wash over me! Logic? What has it got to do with the whole thing to begin with, he cursed. Maybe his conscience was dictating his acts. He obviously felt guilty since his own relationship with Hoshi was on the verge of being the best thing he ever had and was only hoping the same to happen to his best friend.  
Jonathan left prejudice aside a long time ago as long as T'Pol was involved. Trip knew that he was slowly falling for her. It simply showed. He had seen it coming from the very beginning. And now she even took his side against the Vulcan will. Jonathan was literally beaming.  
He sacked down on his bed, gritting his teeth with utter embarrassment. He had to talk to someone.  
Malcolm was out of the picture, Hoshi will never be on the same page, and Travis… well Travis was not his first choice. If only he could talk to Jon…  
Maybe the computer was the best choice after all. For the time being, it will have to be anyway, he had to get all this out of his mind!  
"Computer resume. Thinking of patterns," he stood up and began pacing again, far more agitated than before, "I guess that our always smiling good doctor would say that denial and repression are a really   
good way to deal with things…" he stopped and his face lightened up slowly, "… only for a short period of time." His smile broadened. "Those defence mechanisms won't work in the long run. After, you're in trouble. And T'pol knew it," he whispered. "Computer delete that last part."  
It confirmed what he already knew- that Vulcan gal was far ahead in the process of dealing with her emotions than Jon was. The poor guy almost crumbled into catatonic shock when he learn about that nasty virus of hers. Nothing that Phlox couldn't handle. At least for a while.  
And that's WHEN.  
When they suddenly have been acting differently. They aren't repressing anymore. They have decided to accept it as it is and move on with their lives. They have the chance to be more free to act normally around each other. To see where that will eventually lead them.  
No more Vulcan fuzzy logic or Earthling's stubbornness.  
Two years is a lifetime when you're out there, and I feel lucky Hoshi still wants me after what happened on that planet. Swapping chromosomes…  
Don't go there!  
He shivered.  
Jon told him that Phlox was radiating when he deciphered that sequence. He was not the only one as far as Trip could tell from his friend's boyish smile.  
Probably, that was it. They were meant to go boldly where no one has gone before… What the hell, regs were made to be changed.  
"Computer…"  
"Archer to Tucker !"  
"Aye Sir," he said instantly pressing the com.  
"Please report immediately to my ready room!"  
The voice was one of command.  
"On my way, Sir. Tucker out."  
"Computer, delete the last entry," he said.   
And with that, he hurried to the bridge.

tbc


	2. Miso Broth

Title: Miso Broth  
Fandom: Enterprise  
Summary: Hoshi's rant

Pairing: none  
Rating: G

Author: Yes!

Flaming: NO ;o)  
Archive: if you ask for this story to be archived on your site I will probably say yes but please ask!

Disclaimer: Trek ain't mine. What a shame… Just playing.

Author's Note: this is the second instalment of the series 'The Enterprise Incident' (a sequel to Trip's Log)

**Part 2**

Miso Broth 

© Xeen

"KKKKkkkkkkkkkkk-shtokk' arrr! Plak'tar nob k-ree!"  
Hoshi opened her eyes. That was it! She finally got the pronunciation right – as far as she could tell… She listened intensely to her last recording and almost smiled. Now she had to decide whether it meant "be ready to die" or "get your plate ready", but that was the easiest part, she guessed.  
She switched off the padd and turned back to her notes. She was kind of old fashioned somehow when it came to cooking. That one was worthy of all her attention. It was the very first Japanese cooking lesson she will teach on the flagship Enterprise. Her smile broadened as her long fingers were running on the ancient book.  
She enjoyed teaching back on Earth and truly missed her students. Here she was new to the task. She made a mental correction: she was actually the first one on the job.  
Ever.  
She had to take care of a tremendous amount of things and being up to the task as well, not to mention to get rid of her inner fears. If she was not so frightened all the time, maybe she should have paid a little more attention. She turned out to be the real crybaby lately…. Not that she was unhappy to be part of the crew of Enterprise. She was a very crucial part to it… and she knew, just as she knew from the beginning that she was likely to hate the biggest part of it!  
Don't get her wrong.  
She did like building that universal translation almost from the scratch, not being with the away team testing it. But… part of the job.  
She did enjoy being the diplomatic kind but not using her skills in that matter with the crew of Enterprise at stake. But… part of the job.  
She did fancy a little walk and research down on strange new worlds, but not being randomly beamed back on a volatile transporter. But… part of the job.  
She pressed her hands on her temples and took a deep breath. What could possibly go wrong in the kitchen? Probably nothing apart from facing Chef's ironic smile during her "class". She pressed the command on the wall and the door slid open.  
"Hi!" she said. She had never been so embarrassed in her life. Her four students immediately focused on her expectantly. "We will begin with a vegetarian dish since Sub Commander T'Pol is taking that class with us."  
"This is no obligation, ensign," the Vulcan immediately reacted, one eyebrow almost rocketing under her hair. "This is no official training, you are not requested to take into account that I am a vegetarian."  
"You have informed us that you won't be attending all the classes so I extend it as a courtesy and will arrange around your schedule."  
"Very well, ensign. In that case, I thank you," T'Pol said with an imperceptible nod. "I strongly suggest that we attend this class on a first name basis. Calling each other by our rank or salutation seems inappropriate. Shall we proceed Hoshi?"  
"Err… I suppose so. Today we will start with the basis of family cooking in Japan. Miso…"

She should have known better.  
Make some research just in case Vulcan physiology should require special restrictions. She really wish she could travel back in time! She had discovered an amazing woman when they were stuck in the catwalk but she did not even try to find out more about Vulcans simply because she thought she was such an expert. What happened by her only fault has proved her wrong. She was no expert at all and far too involved in that semi platonic affair with Trip.  
Commander Tucker, that is.  
And, yes.  
She knew that there were no such things that semi platonic affairs but there were the regs right? And he seemed to be quite a ladies' man…  
To make a long story short, she eventually forgot that T'Pol was definitely NO human.  
The grapevine said that she was cold and an efficient professional and not interested in any "fraternisation".  
In other words, there was not the slightest chance of her becoming a friend to Hoshi and therefore she was.  
There was not the slightest chance that a relationship between the captain and the sub commander ever occurs. Not only because of the chain of command -she quite made her point repeatedly, emphasizing she had been assigned to the human ship by the Vulcan Counsel, even if she was to follow the captain's orders.   
When Hoshi thinks it over, she changed right after the monastery incident and almost totally stopped patronizing him right after they were taken into custody by that Coridan faction. They seemed to have come to a silent agreement. Well, the captain was not fooling anyone aboard. Not only was he tempering his anger but managing kindness to the sub commander. Whatever he learnt when they were down there, he was careful not to touch her, - well, sort of – he never quite touched her, Hoshi thought. Somebody told her once that Vulcans were actually touch telepaths and she had put that away in a remote part of her mind.  
But if it was true, T'Pol, in a way, was always alone. She must have been alone years ago in that Vulcan compound in San Francisco, a junior intern with a promising career ahead. She was even more on the Enterprise even if the crew was getting used to having her around.  
How would the crew react if the captain… She nodded absently.  
She should have seen it coming: the sub commander taking the captain away to a secret mission, the captain and the sub commander whispering in the dark in the catwalk, his face when Phlox told him about the disease, hers when he was taken away with Trip to that penal colony?  
On the day it happened, she recalls staring at them speechless, mostly like everyone else did on the bridge. Fortunately, the captain took her away immediately in his ready room. She would have let her hands fall from the keypad to her lap and stare. It took only a moment for their lives to change and then it was over. As if in a dream. Anyone could hardly say anything has happened. Who would have thought only two years ago that the sub commander would ever be…  
Oh my!  
That was the captain's fault in the first place, she thought with a deep frown on her face. What was that idea in the first place to insist on celebrating everyone's birthday! No, she was being unfair. That was real cool.  
The whole matter was really hers!  
Why did she have to volunteer to make the bl…y cake? To make it up to Travis? Who would have thought that Vulcans had a sweet tooth for chocolate and the tendency to get intoxicated with it? She probably overdosed or something. How will she be able to look T'Pol in the eyes with a straight face.

She should have seen it coming…

To be continued


	3. Chocolate Chips

Title: Chocolate Chips  
Fandom: Enterprise  
Summary: Travis POV

Pairing: none  
Rating: G

Author: Yes!

Flaming: NO ;o)  
Archive: if you ask for this story to be archived on your site I will probably say yes but please ask!

Disclaimer: Trek ain't mine. What a shame… Just playing.

Author's Note: this is the third instalment of the series 'The Enterprise Incident' (this takes place after 'Miso Broth')

Thanks to Cat for editing this for me!

**Part 3**

**Chocolate Chips**

© Xeen

Look at me, Travis thought. I got the world on a string. No, not the world, the universe, the galaxy! I am only 26 and already a legend. He took a step away from the mirror. The first helmsman to ever pilot a starship to warp 5.

His smile broadened as he straightened unconsciously watching his reflection in the mirror. Should he have the choice, he'd rather spend his birthday in the sweet spot with a few true friends. Have some beer, play some mah-jong. He would have been quite content with it.

He had to attend the party it took the "girls" weeks to organise instead. When he learnt of it in the first place, it looked just like a set up. They had arranged to rendezvous with another ship and have a huge party on a class M planet of the Kalhita cluster. Commander Tucker was to talk him into it and fortunately, he did it well ahead of time.

As far as he can recall, Travis had always been ground sick. When everyone else on Enterprise was so eager to go down get some fresh air and discover new exotic lands, he thought himself lucky to stay put at the helm. He had been born on a cargo and never planned to get a life on any planet. He'd known all along he must leave the Horizon and his choice had been to join Starfleet Academy.

Captain Travis Mayweather…

That is precisely when Archer had made his dreams come true. And see how time flies! Today he'll turn 27. As a result, he was stuck with that party. Not the kind of party the captain intended for Malcolm the year before in a remote spot of the launch bay. It was going to  
be really huge, everyone will be there. Well, the more the merrier, they say. Actually, it was supposed to be the biggest social event on Enterprise since last New Year's Eve. Hoshi made a point at turning Chef mad for the last two weeks, coming up with a special birthday cake. He had felt as though he had been grilled by every woman on board in order for Hoshi to find out what should be his ultimate favourite dessert. He'll find out soon enough, he thought with a last glance to the mirror.

Maybe he could hang around with Phlox and Hutchinson for a while. He wishes he had never mentioned to Cutler those parties they used to throw on the Horizon. Never say too much to a girl. That would serve him right.

He had been told to put the ship at full stop at 06:00 hours and was expected at the party at 06:30 hours. Sub Commander T'Pol checked the Vulcan data banks and reported to the captain that there was no danger in that particular sector. The same Vulcan, whom he did consider as a pompous know-it-all at first, not only turned out to be a valuable asset to the ship, but also became a friend. As a result, she had informed him that she would be honoured to attend his   
birthday party.

So much for exploration! They soon wouldl be known in the entire quadrant as the party cruiser.

"Won't you change your mind and try this, Sub Commander?" Archer asked.  
"I am quite certain captain. I have some more research to do, I should probably go back to my quarters."  
"You're teasing me aren't you?"  
"Vulcan do not tease, captain. It is inappropriate to think…"  
"I was simply teasing you, Sub Commander," he said, taking her by the elbow with an enticing smile.  
She tilted her head and her eyebrow arched a little. "You do think I should give that beverage a try?"  
"Champagne is not really alcohol," Archer pushed. "More like wine. Take a sip but I won't take no for an answer," he paused and looked at her intensely, "not this time."  
T'Pol's skin took a peculiar shade of bronze. Archer will not let her go with it. She felt a little dizzy and on the edge. Too much light, too many people. She was in a great need of meditation. Right now.  
She shivered to the light contact.  
"There is a small amount of alcohol in wine," she said bluntly.  
"I shall be happy to give you a full Vulcan physiology class, captain," Phlox said out of the blue startling both of them.  
To T'Pol's surprise, it was the captain's turn to blush. He put his hand before his mouth, as he always did when he was embarrassed or under stress. She watched him, the perfect image of the Sphinx. Then Hoshi whispered something to her ear and she was gone.  
The good doctor stared at Archer with his Cheshire smile and held up a hand towards a small group. "Here comes the cake, Captain!"

Why did he feel guilty for what happened? He didn't know that someone has put some vodka in the orange juice! He did not want that damned party to begin with. He should have check twice.  
When T'Pol approached him with a piece of cake, sort of begging for a drink, he thought that orange juice would be the perfect beverage. She graced him with the shadow of a smile and vanished.  
It is only when he was back to the bridge several hours later, reporting for duty, that he noticed something unusual about the Sub Commander. Not to mention the tension in Archer's voice. Commander Tucker was mesmerized, Hoshi falling apart, Mr Reed steadily avoiding  
to place any gaze in the direction.  
As for Captain Archer ?  
Oh my!  
And this was all his fault!  
If Captain Archer tells me that he gets rid of me and I have to stay on the nearest station and wait for the next cargo to get me back to Earth, I will. Honestly, I will. Without uttering a word…  
I will take the entire responsibility for what happened. I deserve it.

tbc in "The Magic PADD"


	4. The Magic PADD

Title: The Magic PADD  
Fandom: Enterprise  
Summary: Poor Malcolm…

Pairing: none  
Rating: PG 13 (language)

Author: Yes!

Flaming: NO ;o)  
Archive: if you ask for this story to be archived on your site I will probably say yes but please ask!

Disclaimer: Trek ain't mine. What a shame… Just playing.

Author's Note: this is the fourth instalment of the series 'The Enterprise Incident' (a sequel to Chocolate Chips). Thanks again to Kat for beta'ing this story ;o)

Part 4 The Magic PADD © Xeen 

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed looked up surreptitiously at the crewman who was entering the bridge, carrying several PADDs with him. His eyes followed the man but he did not let go of his own PADD, typing repeatedly slightly different drill patterns.

_I will have it right some day._

He frowned stubbornly, eyes now locked to the small screen.

_I am so close… I can almost sense it. _

He had that urging drive towards perfection glued in his genes, as had been the PADD to his hands the week before.

Yes… It was.

Glued.

He did hope that no one noticed the rash on both his hands from using that solvent to get rid of that darn glue.

The happy weasel is probably never expecting to be caught but he is oblivious that he is dealing with Malcolm Reed, he thought.

A slick smile crossed his face and he held up his hand to make sure that smile went unnoticed.

Hope that something might reveal the guilt of that delinquent, say a look, a smile, the wink of an eye was no efficient policy enough.

_For chrissake! I should have taken immediate action! I had been fooled and no one on the ship would ever play such a trick on me without expecting proper immediate retaliation. _

He absently watched the crewman eventually leaving the bridge. The PADDs he had brought put on an unattended station… and nobody merely objected to it.

_It is not right. I should work on another procedure to prevent such an unpleasing lack of discipline. No wonder that the crew cannot comply with my standards! That ship was…_

"Mr Reed?" Archer's voice interrupted the paranoid train of thoughts of the armoury officer.

"Aye Sir," his back stiffened unconsciously

"Something bothering you Malcolm?" Archer said, letting his chin fall in his hand.

"No Sir. Not at all," he said defensively.

"You sure?"

"Absolutely, Sir."

_Why was Archer addressing him all of a sudden? _

A quick glance at the view screen, nothing but darkness and the stars flying by.

"You should ask Dr Phlox to have a look at those hands," Archer added with a nod of concern and half a smile.

Commander Tucker chuckled and Ensign Sato turned her back on him. Sub-Commander T'Pol took a step in his direction.

"Allergy to plastic has been known to lead to severe medical conditiona under peculiar circumstances if not taken care of," she uttered in that controlled Vulcan voice of hers.

He felt he was shivering as if she was actually touching him. He froze, staring at her unblinking eyes.

_Is she pulling my leg!_

"I will Sir," he said.

"You might see to it with no further delay, Lieutenant Reed," the Vulcan pushed.

_She is, I'm not mistaken. _

_Maybe she is the one who put that glue on my… _

_No. It can't be. She is a Vulcan._

_But… on the other hand, she's in Hoshi's class, ain't she ? And taking side for the Captain against her own kind and all odds…. He was delusional. _

He shrugged.

"Permission to go to sickbay Sir."

"Relax, Mr Reed. It can't be that bad." Archer took his own PADD and pushed on his arm to stand up from the Captain's chair. His back was obviously aching. "I think I am going to take advantage of the ride, Malcolm. Sub-Commander, you have the bridge."

As they proceed to see the good doctor, Malcolm made an awkward move towards Archer, shoving his PADD under his nose, making him wince.

"Sir, I was wondering if we should not go through another security drill," he said bluntly, "… and get you a yeoman!"

"Malcolm, please, be a good sport! My back is really killing me right now and I still have no present for Travis."

"Present, Sir?"

"His birthday party? Remember lieutenant?"

"Oh yes Sir, of course!"

I am getting on his nerves, he thought, ice cold.

"Huh, I have not chosen anything for him either… Sir. I was sort of planning to buy him something while on Khita."

"Khita?"

"The class M planet we were supposed to throw the party on before Hoshi… I mean Ensign Sato changed her mind… Sir."

"Oh… I see," said Archer quizzically. "I missed something along the process! So…" he trailed off, leaning towards the armoury officer, "what will you get him eventually?"

"The only thing I can think of, is that old fashioned pistol I traded from a smuggler when we were on Risa."

"I did not realise you had time for shopping on Risa, Malcolm."

_This time, I have had it. I am not getting paranoid at all. Archer himself was mocking him._

The sickbay doors hissed open and, for the time being, he had to pull back his resentment.

Malcolm pushed a button and stopped breathing in expectation.

Nothing happened, except a merely audible buzz from inside the internal coating and the pumping system of the EVA suit. He had been planning to generate an individual force field using energy from the thermal differentials. If his estimates were correct, these EVA suits should protect the crew not only from outer space or improper environment but from any weapons, even those using an energetic signature as a lure.

The lethal flow would ricochet on the force field and keep them safe from harm for a while. With the available materials from the heat exchanging thermopiles, which were basically Alumel/Chromel alloys, combined to the Titanium mesh from the coating, - and his personal know how, he would be able to generate that force field at least for 5 minutes.

Time enough to take further action against whoever would attack them.

The hiss of the door to the armoury interrupted his train of thoughts and he attempted to take a look in the direction of the entrance. But he was stuck in that stupid suit and stumbled on the cables displayed on the ground during the experience. He let his PADD drop and his computer blinked before going dark.

He gritted his teeth and cursed.

Succeeding in keeping his balance enough to turn on himself, he had a good view at the door. But before he could see anything, he was stopped by something – someone, clutching to his back and arms. He tried to free himself only to find out that the creature was stronger than he was and not willing to let go. From his point of view, which was almost totally blocked by the helm, he saw a glistening body and a black dishevelled hair. Then the creature wound itself around his legs and he heard something that sounded like a ferocious roar in his earpiece.

"Do not be afraid, I will not hurt you, do not try to resist me."

He reached out to the button and held back his hand. What if it was harmful to the creature? He shrugged and pressed it anyway. The humming went louder inside the suit and the creature was propelled away from him and fell hard on the deck.

He grabbed his phaser set to stun and aimed at the creature. Now, he could take proper action.

Maybe not.

That was Sub-Commander T'Pol, not any creature he had fantasized. Her eyes were dark and feverish and she was… snarling?

Still aiming at her, he punched the intercom.

"Malcolm, I won't hurt you," she said repeatedly in her harsh voice, "the sooner we get over with this, the sooner you may continue with your research."

"Reed to sickbay, this is an emergency."

T'Pol was walking on all fours now and he saw her crouching. He pulled the trigger. She swayed and collapsed before she could jump back at him.

"What would be the problem lieutenant?" Dr Phlox cheered.

"Er… I guess it would be that I shot Sub-Commander T'Pol…"

Malcolm was not certain but he chould have sworn that was Archer's voice he heard along with the doctor's. He sighed heavily and proceeded to take off his suit.

Maybe it was the stun part, he thought. He took his eyes away from the PADD that was on the table near his plate. The green peas and potatoes were cold and stuck in gravy. Nobody was really paying attention to him. He was sure that it had something to do with the fact that he shot her. The Captain had assured him that everything was perfectly all right but it was not. He did not do the right thing.

_I shot my commanding officer on a whim. I acted out of fear. It was an impulsive act unfit to an armoury officer. I could have killed her… _

The blinking PADD was taunting him.

_If it was not because of what I did, how could anyone possibly explain what happened on the bridge after the party then? She would never do something like that in front of us all. _

He stared absently.

_She would never do something like that. Not even in the privacy of her quarters. He was a Vulcan. Nothing of that kind would be tolerated on Vulcan or on a Vulcan ship… ever. Would it not? The Captain will have to report their misconduct to the High Command and I will be dismissed from Enterprise. I have to pack right away._

He got to his feet. His chair rattled on the floor attracting curious looks at him. Frowning deep, he hurried out the mess hall to his quarters.

tbc in "Bedtime for Chameleons"


	5. Bedtime For Chameleons

Title: Bedtime For Chameleons  
Fandom: Enterprise  
Summary: A day (or more) In the life of Phlox

Pairing: none  
Rating: PG 13 (sexual innuendos)

Author: Yes!

Flaming: NO ;o)  
Archive: if you ask for this story to be archived on your site I will probably say yes but please ask!

Disclaimer: Trek ain't mine. What a shame… Just playing.

Author's Note: this is the fifth instalment of the series 'The Enterprise Incident' (a sequel to The Magic PADD). Thanks Kat! IOU ;o)

PART 5   
Bedtime for Chameleons 

© Xeen

"What can I do for you Mr. Reed?" Dr Phlox asked matter-of-factly with a quick glance towards the sickbay doors. "It is about time you come to me. Someone reported that you acted very oddly in the mess hall lately…" he trailed.

Feeding that zoo was so time consuming that having real patients got in the way of his trade. Since his trade was healing Humans –and Vulcan- on the ship, he had to comply. Some noisy rattle accompanied the salad and apple Dr Phlox let drop into the cage.

The armory officer stopped where he was, indecision written on his face. "I am experiencing visions," he stated flatly.

Phlox regained some composure and faced him, a huge smile spread all over his face, making Reed shiver.

"Let me be the judge of that Mr. Reed," the good doctor showed him to the biobeds. "If you would let me?" He made a mental note to check whether the tachyon radiation emanating from the quantum field could have permanently affected the officer. He doubted it. Nevertheless, he was very close to Archer when the captain was abducted – again – and -…

"I am not feeling so well, doctor. Sometimes I feel like… I'm someone else," Reed explained while lying down. The bio-bed beeped startling him. His face reddened and he closed his eyes in anticipation. "I even stopped drinking my…"

"You were saying you had visions?" The doctor interrupted. "Could you be more specific? I am sure that you drink with extreme caution and I assume never to the point of being intoxicated."

"I was going to say my evening herbal tea," protested Reed with a frown of disgust. "Drinking on the ship would be a breach…"

"Very well!" With that, Phlox put some sort of jelly pill on Reed's tongue and took a thorough scan of his head. "Nothing seems wrong… so far," he smiled, "if you except an elevation of your enzymatic response to the Torbulean jelly fish."

Reed choked on the living pill and proceeded to stand up only to fall in Phlox's arms. "I…er… feel… feel dizzy?"

"Don't worry, it's a mere hormonal reaction to the jelly fish. Everything should be back to normal in a few minutes." Dr Phlox turned his back to Reed who was gulping and desperately trying to speak. "You should regain speech within the same parameters. I am afraid that you're developing an antagonizing reaction to the poison in the jelly fish. Nothing that I cannot handle, don't worry," he said with a joyful composure. "You will have to be careful with those jelly fish from now on. Too bad we have to add them to your already quite extensive list of allergies. They have proven to be really handy in the treatment of venereal diseases… Just kidding," he added rapidly when he saw with –too- late concern the armory officer turning green.

He was still having trouble communicating properly with Humans. He had made some progress, thanks to the Medical Exchange Program. After several months spent on Earth and almost two years aboard the Enterprise, he felt part of the picture. Too bad he didn't always see the picture clearly.

It was easier to use the vernacular patterns with Trip Tucker as he was always ready for a joke or a set up. His carefree southern character was easy on people and Phlox deeply enjoyed his company. Nevertheless, Archer was more his type.

At least, nobody ever suspected him to be the one who put that glue on the PADD. The armory officer was always carrying it along with him and it was too much of a temptation to meet the challenge.

His Cheshire smile went even wider.

Quite an accomplishment in itself, he thought, since it was the result of a bet with the Captain and a reluctant Sub-commander.

His only regret was that he added an alien component from Risa to stick the PADD to Reed's hands. On Denobula, he would have done it on his head. On Enterprise, he had to improvise and something went wrong. Probably too much droppings of these royal ants from Tersah. He would never have thought though. But Lieutenant Reed was a walking allergy encyclopedia. He put an end to his rambling when checking the erratic readings from the biobed monitors.

No. That couldn't be. Not twice on the same ship with two different people… Better check it again.

Now that was odd. Two different cerebral patterns showing in the same body and no obvious pregnancy.

"Are you experiencing any nausea, Mr. Reed? Swelling? Perspiring?" he asked.

He shrugged regretting that human males don't show that peculiar shade of blue on the ears when they were pregnant. Very convenient indeed that some species display alternative colors to show their condition. Stop daydreaming Phlox. This is an Earth ship. Consider yourself lucky: you're in the twilight zone. And human male don't get impregnated –well, most of the time…

"No!"

Phlox opened his eyes wider and waited for Reed's uncommon outburst to stop.

"I'm not pregnant! I am a Vulcan," Reed strongly stated. "I am cold and tired of being patronized. I am only in need of meditation. I cannot maintain control on my emotions any longer."

Fascinating. "Very well. So maybe you ate meat for your last supper and you are experiencing a slight indigestion." Phlox joked.

Think.

Think fast Phlox.

Reed's hand flashed to his temple as the doctor backed swiftly away from the biobed. Even with his training and with the Sub-commander's lessons, Reed was not as fast nor as deadly as a genuine Vulcan would be, Phlox realized, but his frustration and anger were growing and would lead him to harm him if he didn't manage to put a stop to it.

Maybe T'Pol attempted a mind meld on him to force him to copulate and something went wrong? That would be utterly fascinating. He took another step away from the bed.

Reed was now standing and approaching with a mad flare in the eyes.

Lieutenant Reed was obviously going through Pon Farr after his encounter with Sub Commander T'Pol… or maybe was he experiencing a backlash of T'Pol's Pon Farr. Either way, he was clearly acting like a Vulcan going through that specific ritual of mating.

Even more fascinating…

Phlox hand flashed to Reed's arm and one could hear the distinctive hiss of the hypo-spray. Reed collapsed almost immediately.

"Phlox to the bridge. May I see you to sickbay, Captain?"

"On my way Doctor," responded Archer at once.

"Through the EVA suit?" Archer asked puzzled. "How could that be?"

"Vulcans are known to be touch telepaths, Captain. Theoretically, with the sudden urge induced by the virus, one can imagine that her abilities to do so were enhanced."

"So," Archer said as he moved around the bio-bed to get a better look at Reed, "what you are saying is that she sort of hypnotized him?"

"The analogy is quite correct Captain. I might say that I had no idea that it was possible. There is nothing in the Vulcan data base that can help me in that matter."

"And still, I presume you are not eager to share what happened on the ship when I was away," he cocked his head and addressed the doctor with an enticing smile.

Phlox beamed at the smile and straightened even more. "That is privileged information Captain. I am confident that you would expect the same behavior on my part were you the patient," he stated.

Archer did not even try to hide his smile. "Fair enough. I surrender doctor. Just keep me posted on Mr. Reed's healing process. If you're looking for me, I'll be in my quarters."

With that, he left the sickbay. Phlox sighed deeply.

Surrender.

It was really a pity that Archer was blind to the obvious. Should T'Pol have picked him in decon, Phlox was sure Archer would not have been able to escape her. He had witnessed some rather funny verbal exchanges and looks between the two, including the night Porthos had nearly died. Of course the Captain had been too tired and worried to be at his best, but it had still been an interesting exchange.

On the other hand, Reed was the pessimistic type and having T'Pol, his superior officer, hitting on him probably made him freak out. No doubt he had confessed to Tucker as the Commander hadn't stopped smiling since that day.

Phlox couldn't wait until Mayweather's birthday party tonight.

Time for all things to solve themselves, he thought, pulling the blind around Reed's bed. It should not be long before it was time for T'Pol to return to sickbay for her last hormonal shot. Tonight everything would eventually fall into place.

"There is a small amount of alcohol in wine," T'Pol said in a neutral voice.

But to Phlox's trained ear, there was a tenuous tendency to go higher that her usual tone. "I shall be happy to give you a full Vulcan physiology class, Captain," he said stepping closer to them and looking at Archer right in the eyes with his disturbing smile.

He was wearing a beige embroidered tunic, and a river of shiny pearls running all over his swelled stomach were making him look even more exotic. Archer suddenly turned red and hid an embarrassed smile behind his hand.

Good, he thought, the Captain already had a good taste of that punch I can smell from here. And T'Pol's pheromones are on the verge of bursting off, - again.

Hoshi put him aside and made her way to the Sub Commander. She whispered in her ear and they left, without a look in their direction.

"Here comes the cake, Captain!" the doctor exclaimed, urging Archer to come closer.

Most of the crew was now packed around Mayweather. Someone started to sing 'Happy birthday' and Archer's voice rapidly covered all the others. Cheers and applauses accompanied Travis through his ordeal and, in the end, everyone was seated again, with one spoon in one hand and a plate in the other.

"You should try this, Sub Commander," Phlox pushed, "one of the thing I appreciate most in being on a human ship is the variety of dishes and the complexity of their cuisine."

"I am not sure I agree," T'Pol said dryly, eyes locked on the cake she was holding before her. Her eyebrow was arched to the maximum and her breathing deep and forced. "On Vulcan, we do not celebrate birthdays," she swallowed the bite she had in her mouth and her gaze when through Phlox wandering wildly in the mess hall.

"Are you feeling all right Sub Commander?" Phlox reluctantly placed his plate on a table and came closer to her. "Is it the side effects of the shot I gave you this afternoon?" he said, lowering his voice to a mere whisper.

"I should get back to my quarters," she hissed. "I am not well. Please inform the Captain that I shall return to duty soon."

She pushed him aside, leaving quickly.

He knew she was acting strangely, even for a Vulcan female in her condition. He should have anticipated her move… or at least prevented it.

He had fun at the party instead, being the last one to leave with the very last crewman. Tasting everything twice, dancing with Hoshi and Cutler and the little redhead from maintenance. He even asked Commander Tucker for a dance, but he should have known that two men dancing together was not yet a human tradition.

The Captain, having left the party earlier on, had been back on the bridge with the second shift. Everything was going swell and smooth until the communicating device in sickbay came alive at about 04:50.

"Phlox here," he said, catching the chameleon that was making his way to the tribble cage and already hiding, melding his skin to the bright colors. "Stay there, you punk! Not you Ensign… what can I do for you at this time of night?"

"Doctor, you should probably help us here on the bridge."

"Could you elaborate, please?"

Strange noises coming from the com covered the ensign's voice.

"This is the Sub-commander, Doctor Phlox. I don't know what to do," she pleaded.

When he heard T'Pol's voice, Phlox shoved the chameleon into its bed and hurried to the bridge at full speed. He'd known this could happen and he'd chosen to let it go.

That was his fault.

Never the Captain or the Sub-commander would forgive him. Fortunately, he still had some opportunities to explore with the Medical Exchange Program.

tbc in "A Night at the Movies"


	6. A Nite At The Movies

Title: A Night At The Movies

Fandom: Enterprise  
Summary: Chef POV

Pairing: none  
Rating: G

Author: Yes!

Flaming: NO ;o)  
Archive: if you ask for this story to be archived on your site I will probably say yes but please ask!

Disclaimer: Trek ain't mine. What a shame… Just playing.

Author's Note: this is the sixth instalment of the series 'The Enterprise Incident' (a sequel to Bedtime For Chameleons). Thanks to Kat for her kind guidance!

**PART 6**

**A Night At The Movies**

© Xeen

Don't get me wrong.

I'm really into movies. Some could call me a romance movie die-hard fan. I know that most of the crew would call them chick flicks, but I don't care.

I am a healthy man in his thirties, proud of his opinions and standing for them every time I have to! But when it comes to movies, it's always ice-cream cones, pop-corn and sodas. So much for cuisine…

I have been a Chef in Geneva and Paris, even in the Disney resorts in New Berlin, but I would never have thought that I would be chosen from the most prestigious cooks of the world to be on the first Earth flagship ever.

Think of it: we were four when Starfleet finally made their decision. Just like the musketeers. That guy from Oz, what was his name? Anyway, he was not even in our league. But I was certain 300 that Lixan-nan, the most famous chef in Beijing would be their first choice. They rejected him instead and left the both of us, Georges Duval, Paris Le Grand Véfour prestigious chef and me competing for the position.

Nope.

In fact Duval was honoured but did not want to leave Earth since he had been working on Titan for half his life and was happy to be back in his home town.

Needless to say, they did me the greatest favour of all to take me on that journey.

I was not familiar with Vulcan cuisine since I was never near a Vulcan compound when I was on Earth. And, honestly, can you picture a Vulcan on a tour to the moon Disney resorts? Come on! Give me a break.

Working on that ship is the best thing that ever happened to me –so far! Something I'll be happy to tell my grand children if we ever come back from the Delphic Expanse.

But you asked me about the… err.. incident, didn't you?

OK.

First of all, the galley had been a mess since the Captain greenlighted Hoshi Sato's cooking cessions. The girl is a cutie and she's really cool to be around but not in my place!

And then, as if it was not enough, there have been the movie nights.

"Couldn't you improvise something for us Chef?" Hoshi was the first to ask me. She prefers to be called Hoshi, you know. Well, difficult to resist her.

Then came Mr Tucker. "Chef, ya won't regret it, ya bet. Pop-corn and ice-cream sodas? Jes like in the fifties…" What fifties, for crying out loud? The guy is a fine engineer but pretty retarded when it comes to movies.

The last time I was in a theatre, I was like 5 years old and the people on the screen were something between the interbreeding of nanotechnology and computer glitch. I mean, face the facts: there are no actors any more! Who would risk one's life on screen to entertain people nowadays? I have always enjoy the diversity offered by the CGI industry myself. I even used to watch the Academy Awards on channel KMP5002.5 when I was a kid.

It was in Los Angeles, before the great tide…

Anyway.

Now the whole crew started to demand pop corn and pretend to watch films they did not even know of before Mr Tucker downloaded them into the database. I fail to understand why the crew is so fascinated by two century old crappy black and white horror shows but never mind.

The fact is that I am stuck with making pop corn and ice cream bars for a bunch of maniacs. If they are so into old flicks, why not some romance I asked…

It seems that nobody ever thought of taking one's film library onboard.

Guess it's too late now to get my pals from Earth send some real stuff for the movie nights!

So I made the usual 40 gallons of pop-corn that night and I wish I had had disposable barrels. It's impossible to replicate pop corn, you see, you have to make it the old fashioned way.

Absolutely.

And Sub-Commander T'Pol was at the movies with the captain. I was told he asked her on a date because she wouldn't comply with the commander's whining.

Sub-Commander T'Pol was never there. Except that one time in the catwalk. But she was almost sleeping in the Captain's arms during these three days.

Well… Nobody notices me you know: I'm the Captain's cook.

And I see things.

Lots of things.

You simply cannot imagine what angst and passion I can spot over a plate of pasta or a goulash. People are oblivious of the cook when they are eating. And even on a ship like Enterprise, there is romance and…. Well, you know what I mean.

No.

I'm not saying that I imagine things.

I SEE things.

With my very own eyes.

I don't hear them from the grapevine. I am the grapevine.

Let me tell you that Captain Archer is not always at his best in the morning. But he's always a happy camper when the Sub-Commander happens to have breakfast with him.

And when they were in the catwalk, they could have been honeymooners, I swear.

Anyway…

On that movie night, Commander Tucker decided for some Frankenstein and I made the pop-corn and all.

And the Sub-Commander T'Pol even tasted it. I saw her put her hand inside the bowl and pick some.

I swear! Honest!

And they tell you Vulcan don't eat that and don't drink that and don't touch the food.

Bla bla bla…

My point is that if you give a Vulcan the chance to taste proper cuisine, they like it just like anyone of us. You should have seen the Captain's face when she ate the pop corn out of his own bowl. It was priceless!

Well the day after, she was back to her usual plomeek soup and steamed vegetables.

That's when I heard them talking about Travis's birthday.

I mean Mr Mayweather's. Come on! The guy could be in Senior High! But a damned good pilot he is, oh yes!

The Captain was upset because he didn't get the kid a present yet and T'Pol asked him whether he liked that book she gave him for his leave on Risa because she was planning to offer Mr Mayweather a copy. I could clearly see that the Captain was offended.

I mean, no… let's say…hurt.

She noticed it, I guess, because she said that she was seeking for his advice. She had always had trouble to find presents for people on Enterprise since the birthday-present-celebration-party thing was not a Vulcan dish.

If you ask me, she sold him the excuse pretty good.

In the end, they decided to give him one present coming from them both.

Pretty neat, huh?

After what I would call an awkward silence and some glances from each party, the Captain asked me about the cake I was supposed to make for the occasion.

I made it, though I was not 100 sure that there will even be a party since… you know… with the Sub-Commander being ill in decon and Mr Reed thinking he is a Vulcan.

Being a Vulcan? I wonder what she did to him but if what I heard from Cutler is right, I bet I wouldn't have turned HER down.

No Sir.

So much for the Captain's privilege, facing such a lethal threat you know what to do don't you? Her life was at stake there, man! Come on!

Anyway. Mr Reed was in sickbay, from what I know he'd been sedated for the last couple of days and Phlox was expecting him to heal by himself and get back to normal after….

The incident?

OK.

Sorry. But there's so much I can tell you about…

The incident, right.

It was a pretty fancy party. Hoshi and the girls had spent the last weeks fixing everything right and it was extraordinary. You wouldn't have recognized the mess hall! Everyone was just enjoying being there and the kid was shining like a beacon. I saw Hoshi and the sub-commander in the middle of a girl talk and I swear that the sub-commander had at least one glass of champagne. I made sure that it was the bottle the captain wanted me to open for the senior staff and she was drinking it like water. However, she was not to keen on the cake. She took a bite or two but I can see what people think when they eat. She was not displeased but she didn't like it that much. She was merely being polite to the girls and the kid. I offered a second round of champagne and I must admit I was surprised when she said yes.

I suggested that she tasted some fresh strawberries from the hydroponic gardens with her drink and she gladly accepted.

She was very interested when I explained the reason why strawberries enhance the flavour of the wine. She even asked for more.

You should have seen her biting in the juicy fruit.

Well, everybody knows that she is the Captain's girl but one must admit she's some kind of a woman!

She took the strawberries with her and the next time I looked for her, she was gone.

So was the captain.

Probably a coincidence.

Dr. Phlox was experimenting cha cha, paso dobles and tango with every member of the crew. I guess he must have asked the captain for a dance. I'm not saying that the captain left the party because of Phlox but Commander Tucker sure did! He looked really pissed. Hoshi was with him so she might have healed his male ego…

It is not until the next morning that I heard of the incident.

That happened on the bridge as you already know.

Just after the party was over.

Not sure of the shift though.

I should never have told her to try those strawberries. She's a Vulcan for Christ's sake!

Maybe she was allergic or something…

If the captain asks me to resign, I'll be happy to do the dishes until we're back to Earth.

tbc in "Cheese Sticks"


	7. Cheese Sticks

Title: Cheese Sticks

Fandom: Enterprise  
Summary: What if?

Pairing: A/T  
Rating: PG13 (just in case)

Author: Yes!

Flaming: NO ;o)  
Archive: if you ask for this story to be archived on your site I will probably say yes but please ask!

Disclaimer: Trek ain't mine. What a shame… Just playing.

Author's Note: this is the seventh instalment of the series 'The Enterprise Incident' (a sequel to A Nite At The Movies). Thanks to Cat who worked her magic on this ff ;o)

**PART 7**

Cheese sticks 

© Xeen

Will HE ever stop throwing that ball on the wall? The bouncing makes me sick every time. Especially on an empty stomach.

I hate parties.

Not just Christmas or Thanksgiving parties, but all parties. Birthday parties are the worst. HE never takes me with HIM to any parties. I never have the chance to get a bite of cake or turkey...

Even afterwards. Stupid diet!

I can only assume that HE thinks my presence would be inappropriate.

That is a shame.

I've known HIM my entire life. Even before I could walk. HE knows I can be a perfect gentleman...

HE will never take me with HIM.

Fortunately, there are some people smart enough on Enterprise to understand that once in a while I could attend special events and act accordingly. They would even take me in HIS place. I must confess it's not quite the same. I mean, I like it but without HIM… it is not as thrilling as it would if HE were with me.

I'm not the possessive type though. You could say I'm exactly the opposite. I like the people HE likes and hates the ones HE dislikes.

No, I'm more of the exclusive type.

We would lay down our lives for each other and I would gladly defend HIS significant other from the villains.

The problem is that HE has none.

At the moment I mean.

HE was devastated when HE broke up with Abigail. After a while, HE began to heal and threw HIMself into the space program. Everyday of the week round the clock. Abigail took care of me some times. She knew my mum, you know.

I understand that living on a ship like Enterprise when you're the captain can prove to be difficult in terms of intimacy with a female. I've had time to think it over…

Hoshi would be in my top three, even if I imagine that she's more of a foster child to HIM. She's nice and quiet and seems to know exactly what I think or want, but that lemon and cinnamon cologne she uses? Well, I find it a bit offensive. I can see that Commander Tucker doesn't seem to mind the smell, but, you know… men!

Betsy's cute and smells of vanilla. Ensign Cutler that is. She lets me call her Betsy. She hates it when Ensign Novacovich does but she never complains when I do. I tried to go with Betty and Lizzy, but Betsy is my favorite. Betsy can talk to me for hours about anything and is always smiling.

I'm not that fond of those insects she keeps in her lab, especially the giant K'tallosian spiders; a three foot eight legged nightmare. Fortunately, she doesn't take me over there that much. I seem to disturb the poor things. And still I was a perfect gentleman…

My first choice is the alien female though. I mean, not only is SHE beautiful, but SHE's smart, SHE smells good and HE likes HER… well, loves HER. I know when HE fancies someone. We're sworn pals you know.

And this one? HE surely cares for HER.

HE arranged several casual meetings just to choose a present for Travis… HE's been hanging around HER too long.

HE could erase a planet on a whim –I know HE will never do that though- and still coins puzzling strategy to seduce a woman who already loves HIM back?

Nonsense and waste of time.

I say: go for it!

When HE left to go to the birthday party, I could have bet that something was going to turn awkward.

Too bad no one cared to ask me.

SHE dropped by right after HE left and fed me those Vulcan cheese sticks which are not really cheese sticks and just taste like cheese.

SHE gave me that weird you'reJon'spetandIrespecthisdecisiontohaveyouonboard" look and petted me for a while. SHE cast a last glance at me before the door hissed shut behind HER.

"Behave yourself Porthos," SHE said.

SHE should have known better.

Now HE is sulking on HIS bed.

I have no idea what SHE did to HIM.

HE won't even pet me or talk to me or throw me a ball or even take me to HIS ready room or to the gym or on the bridge for the late night shift.

HE's angry and…

"You know what Porthos?"

I wagged my tail against the cushion and raised my head to HIM.

At last!

"Vulcan women are just like women from Earth," HE trailed.

OK. What's new? Cut the chase man!

"I don't understand them… at all, and never will. Commanding this ship is a piece of cake compared to understanding HER."

Now you're talking Einstein.

I put back my head on my paws and locked my eyes to HIS.

Just in case.

Maybe if I listen long enough HE will get me some cheddar….

"You know pal, I must have done something wrong," HE said, standing up from HIS bed and kneeling beside me.

I put the tail on full speed mode and my nose on HIS hand. All I could smell was soap.

No cheese. I refrained from sighing and put a paw on HIS hand.

"SHE left the party right after I played the piano for the crew."

Oh… HE played the piano… Wow! HE' really fallen for this one!

"What has happened is my fault Porthos. Do you think I should go to HER quarters to apologize?"

I wagged my tail with a renewed frenzy.

"Well, I guess you're right, pal."

Am I?

"Want some cheese before I go?"

YES!

I sat up and begged to make HIM take the box and the cheese out of the box and the cheese…

AAAAAAAAAHHHH

"Sorry buddy, that's all. I'll see you later, Porthos."

Fair enough.

I wonder what happened to HER.

Maybe Betsy will tell me when she takes me out for the morning walk.

Ah… cheddar…

TBC in "Lonely tunes"


	8. Lonely Tunes

Title: Lonely Tunes

Fandom: Enterprise  
Summary: Even Vulcan girls get the blues

Pairing: A/T  
Rating: PG13

Author: Yes!

Flaming: NO ;o)  
Archive: if you ask for this story to be archived on your site I will probably say yes but please ask!

Disclaimer: Trek ain't mine. What a shame… Just playing.

Author's Note: this is the eighth instalment of the series 'The Enterprise Incident' (next after 'Cheese Sticks').

**PART 8**

**Lonely Tunes**

© Xeen 2003

T'Pol had known from the very beginning that she was developing what oddly looks like admiration for Jonathan Archer. The captain happened to be the first Human she had witnessed saying out loud what most people did not even dare to think unconsciously.

He was smart, he was bold, he was charming and the crew loved him.

She loved him as well.

She had loved him for a long time.

Before she was sent as an observer on the human ship, she had spent seven years far from Vulcan and the last two in San Francisco area. The compound where she was living in Sausalito was far from everything she was dying to see, to experience, to analyze… and have a taste for herself.

She resisted during six months before curiosity took over discipline. She started going out at night. She bought herself a blonde wig, some fancy clothes and began a random exploration of the city. No one ever bother to disturb her or question her presence. She was bemused of that carefree atmosphere so remote from the rigid Vulcan way of life.

She had discovered that she shared a passion for Mahler and free jazz with a large group of very different people. Eventually, she tried new places, not always the ones that attract the right sort of people until she found a place where she felt comfortable. At the happy hour, anybody was entitled to play or sing. Or both.

On one December night, probably around Christmas –she remembered decorated trees and carols in the streets- she finally made it there through the worst icy wind that had blown over the bay for the last century.

She sat down at her usual spot, on the right side of the stage, trying to get warm. Here he was, playing the piano and softly singing to himself. A glass of ale was sitting on the edge of the piano and he was half facing her. A tall redheaded woman stepped in and they exchanged some talks. She leaned down to him and placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth. He began to sing out loud, his eyes locked on hers.

It was a new experience for the Vulcan. She had seen performances of "Romeo and Juliet" and listened to many more operas and eventually love songs: the genre was exotic. But at this precise moment, she was not listening to an act but witnessing a real declaration. She could not take her eyes from the man who was singing his love to this woman.

The woman patted his shoulder with a sad smile and left the stage. T'Pol saw her get her way through the crowd out to the street. He kept on singing for a while, staring absently at her. She could not help from shivering under his seemingly scrutiny, even though she knew he could not spot her, hidden in the darkness of her corner.

More than two years later, she could anticipate the shudder from the last note that was still echoing in her mind.

More than two years later, she was this man second in command.

On that cold December night, she had learnt that he left the beautiful woman to reach out to his dream.

T'Pol was scanning the cluster and trying to figure out the meaning of that odd uneasiness she was experiencing since the virus threw her in an unexpected Pon Farr urge. She was almost back to normal levels of hormones.

Somehow, she was /feeling/… different.

On a Vulcan ship, has she ever acted the way she had with the ship's physician and the security team, she would have been outcast and secluded in her quarters.

She was considered as a misfit de facto, since she broke her engagement to Koss. The High Counsel had probably left her on Enterprise to test her resistance. To them, to be a commanding officer on a human ship was merely torture. They had tried it before and all Vulcans failed to stay onboard an Earth ship for more than a fortnight.

On the contrary, she was having a great time. The more she was around Humans, the more she was seduced.

She was bewildered every time she has seen Archer engage useless small talk with any crewman on the ship, the way he had to make everyone feel special and needed. She could not chitchat the way he did. It was not the Vulcan way. It did not seem appropriate and yet it fulfilled its purpose: making the crew at home.

A Vulcan would never have tried to make life easier on anyone.

She had tried to mimick him with Hoshi's help when they where stuck in the catwalk. But Hoshi was a born speaker. She would have talk to thin air to have the chance to understand the wind.

Vulcans would speak only if requested or even required, not to get involve in some kind of /companionship/. When one lives on a human ship, one must adapt. Salutations were put aside as often as possible and bonding was encouraged.

If they do not put an end to it, within two hundred years, entire family will be living on Starfleet ships. She already could list serious breaches of protocol and regulations aboard Enterprise, not to mention patent fraternisation examples among the crew.

How illogical…

Even the senior staff was at risk with that fling between Commander Tucker and Ensign Sato.

/Fling/

Vernacular speech was rubbing off on her, she stated, arching an eyebrow. She cast a glance toward the captain's chair but he was away, probably working in his ready room. She held a hand to her PADD, resisting the temptation to go and talk to him about her latest survey.

Life was easier on Vulcan transports. Sexual tension was hidden deep inside the Vulcan brain, with everything planned and mastered since birth to make it even and passionless.

She sighed and leaned towards the screener of her console. She was tired of those routine scans. She straightened slightly, trying to get back her composure. The virus had made a mess of her. Her head was aching and her shoulders were stiff. Her mind got lost in some recreational projection.

Maybe she could give it a try… She had to admit she was in great need of seeing him. Jonathan was probably only daydreaming in front of the porthole, watching the stars passing by.

They still had to arrange for that birthday present though. She jumped when Hoshi's voice eventually made its way to her ears.

"… Did you?"

She was in total disarray. She needed to meditate. Her attitude was unworthy of a Vulcan. Doing her best to appear as normal as can be, she blinked at Hoshi.

"Did you find the perfect gift?" she asked again.

"Yes ensign."

Hoshi leaned towards her and whispered. "I take it you're going for the book?"

"I don't think so."

The young ensign looked worried and hushed back. "Are you ok, M'am?"

"I am all right ensign. Thank you. I will be in sickbay if the captain needs me."

It was definitely time for that shot Phlox was supposed to give her. The fever was starting to burn up again. She slotted the viewscreen back in, startling Mayweather and Reed's replacement. She frowned, noticing that her mind was so blurred she could not get a match on the crewman's name. He was next door. She could go to him and make the fever go away… She stopped where she was and went back into dreaming mode.

"Is there something wrong sub-commander?"

Archer asked for the third time with a concerned look to his second in command. The Vulcan had been still since he had been back on the bridge. Alarmed, Archer came closer to the science station.

"T'Pol? Are you ok?"

The sub-commander was turning greyish and her eyes were unfocused. Hoshi glanced at the two of them and back at T'Pol. She reached out to the com to call for Dr Phlox. After what had happened to Lt Reed, she was not willing to take any chances. But Archer raised his hand, silently instructing her to delay her move.

"T'Pol? Do you need my help?" he asked again.

She blinked and stared at him, unsettled.

"I have to report to sickbay, Captain." Hurrying to the turbolift, she gritted her teeth, avoiding looking at him and she was gone.

"Permission granted sub-commander. Keep me posted will you?" whispered Archer, avoiding Hoshi's worried look. He sat uncomfortably on the captain's chair and tried to go back to commanding mode.

It was not her time yet to experience the Pon Farr. She could make most of the pain and symptoms go away. When he was close, she had no control over it, even with Phlox's help.

She was sincerely hoping that Phlox was right when he assured her that he could act upon the fever and ease the pain. She clasped her hands on the control panel and arched under the sudden burst of violent images and emotions she was experiencing. She shouted in Vulcan and her voice echoed in the alley-way as the turbolift doors hissed open. She rushed out to sickbay, tumbling from wall to wall. She knew she had waited to long for the next shot.

Time had elapsed without her noticing it. She was lost in her fantasies. Under such stress, she might even prove to be a threat to the security of the ship. Focusing on Archer had triggered yet another attack of the Pon Farr, far more powerful than the first time in decon. She could not help but being single minded: Captain Archer was obsessing her.

She entered sickbay and almost collapsed in Phlox's arms.

"The captain took the liberty to call me. He is concerned about your present condition. Sub-Commander, maybe you should consider talking to him…"

She grasped his lab jacket, spitting the words in his face. "Give me the shot… I am in no condition to speak… Doctor… NOW!"

She let go of him, arching under another wave of emotional attack. Her face turned greyish and she closed her eyes, barely keeping her balance.

The hiss of the hypo-spray.

The tidal wave of emotions was backing off of her mind. She shrugged as to get free from the wisps of the residual emotions and relaxed.

"That should do it," stated Phlox, acknowledging with relief the blatant change. "Maybe an extra shot will be needed. We will see in due time."

"I thank you doctor," said T'Pol, almost back to her normal composure, "I wish not to talk to the captain. I made some calculations and we should rendezvous with a Vulcan ship within a couple of weeks."

"I am not certain that you understand," began the doctor.

"I am quite aware of the situation, doctor. I am not going through my Pon Farr."

"Don't you forget that the virus induces the same reactions. You are aware that self control will not stop the fever. If that shot does not reduce your hormonal level dramatically, mating will be the only option. If only the Vulcan data base…"

"We have been reviewing that already, doctor," she interrupted harshly.

Phlox flinched. She was still very emotional. His treatment had not reached its purpose.

"I do not wish to question the decision of the Directorate regarding the contents of the medical database. I am aware Vulcans are highly secretive people."

"It is not your place to judge, doctor."

She stepped back, hands clasped behind her back.

"I am not sure that I will be able to come up with a satisfactory treatment, sub-commander. I wish I had more time."

"I will be back in seven hours," she said, barely acknowledging the physician's despair. "Thank you doctor." She bowed and left, her pace slower when she hesitated at the door to sickbay. She turned around.

"I will make an attempt at talking to the captain," she muttered.

The doors hissed closed and Phlox stared blankly, uncertain he heard her correctly.

She hesitated in front of the doors to the mess hall and finally stepped in, the perfect image of the perfect science officer. She noticed that everybody was in one's civvies and she stopped in the doorway. Maybe she should have…

"Here you are, sub commander!" Archer cheered her in, taking her arm to guide her to the back of the hall. He was in his blues and she slightly relaxed, letting him dragging her to the buffet. He was smiling and obviously very happy with the party.

She never should have come.

She will fake having a glass of any alcoholic beverage, will chew on a spoonful of cake and will return to her quarters to meditate. The touch of his hand on the fabric of her catsuit was setting her arm on fire. Desperately searching for Hoshi, she managed to get free of his hand and act normally. Archer bent his head to her and she saw his lips move. The heat was unbearable. She could hear a hundred conversations going on. He was offering her a glass of sparkling amber wine with an enticing smile.

"Won't you change your mind and try this, Sub Commander?"

Was he trying to make her drink? Was it customary in such circumstances? She had noticed that such behaviour was tolerated at the Vulcan Embassy in New York.

"I am quite certain captain. I have some more research to do; I should probably go back to my quarters."

Archer's brow almost reached his hair.

"You're teasing me, aren't you?" smiled Archer.

His sincerity was no act. He wanted her to have fun and being intoxicated was part of the deal.

"Vulcan do not tease, captain. It is inappropriate to think…"

"I was simply teasing you, sub-commander."

He was dangerously coming near her personal space, invading yet again her burning soul and triggering another wave of pleasure/pain. She arched an eyebrow and her lips quivered. His hand was on her elbow now. Firm and inviting. Chewing at the inside of her cheek, she stared blankly at him.

What the hell.

"You think I should give this beverage a try?"

She did not get the straight answer she was expecting.

"Champagne is not really alcohol, more like wine. Take a sip but I won't take no for an answer," he said, leaning to her ear, his breath in her neck.

She closed her eyes praying that nobody has witnessed the scene. She hastily put in place some extra mental shield and turned her face to his. Her lips were merely three inches from his. His eyes were sparkling. She had never noticed before that they were that peculiar shade of green with…

"… not this time," he insisted, his voice trailing in her ear.

What was that? She stepped away from him. Did she hear that right? She was paralysed like a deer caught in the headlights of a ground shuttle.

"There's a small amount of alcohol in wine," she yelped, desperately seeking a way out the embarrassing situation. Archer mumbled something about college and Vulcan physiology and she lost track of time once again and went back to blur mode. She heard the Denobulan physician's usual witticisms and one crewman acknowledging the fun of it while Hoshi was kidnapping her.

Good timing, she thought.

Archer was now several feet away from her and she was holding to a glass of Champagne like to a buoy. Hoshi took her to Travis and fed her a spoonful of her homemade chocolate cake. Chef wanted her to try an exotic fruit she knew she had not tested. She tasted the delicate wine. The sparkles were tingling on her lips. The sweet and acid flavour of the strawberries Chef insisted she had, bringing out the wine bouquet and leading her to experience another erotic reverie. She felt dizzy.

So much for her Vulcan allergies.

Hoping that human cuisine had rubbed off on her during the last months, she washed down the fruit and the cake with yet another glass of wine.

Someone started singing out loud "happy birthday" and everybody sang along, Archer's voice sounding loud and clear above all others. Travis was busy at unwrapping his presents, a huge smile written on his face. When it came to their common present, she unconsciously stopped breathing and began to seek after Archer in the crowd.

She was in no condition to make a decision, either stay or go.

A crew member jostled her apologized. She barely winced. She made her way to the voice and the piano. She had been waiting for this moment since the first time she had listened to him that December night in San Francisco. And tonight, she will be the one he was singing to. She was aware they were no item, despite the knowing smiles of the crew and the continuing gossip, but tonight she was definitely willing to be his girl. She sat her glass on the edge of the piano and let her mind drift to the sound of the music. He was playing songs she had never heard before.

/No one's gonna harm you, not while I'm around, no one's gonna hurt you, no one's gonna dare…/

Nobody was really paying attention to the first officer and his captain. They were caught in the music. When his eyes met hers, she did not blink or move. He finished the song with his eyes locked on hers. With the magic suddenly gone, she regained some composure and melded into the crowd.

She came across Phlox who stepped decisively in her way and stayed put in front of her. She barely heard him -something about the variety and the complexity of human cuisine- and when she saw the piece of cake he was holding on his fork, she almost lost her temper. She resisted the urge to push him aside, pondering the fact that she will probably hurt him in the process.

"I am not sure I agree," she said, her composure almost gone and unable to breathe properly. She could not help but to be fascinated by the cake and the dripping chocolate dressing and the smell and…

Her nasal inhibitor was failing her.

"On Vulcan, we do not celebrate birthdays," she said, taking a bite in Phlox's plate and swallowing nervously.

She had to go away from this place.

The shot was not helping and there were definitely too many people around. She was unable to cope with the odor and the sound of numerous conversations. On top of all, she could see only a kaleidoscope of moving colors.

"Are you feeling all right Sub Commander?" asked Phlox.

He seems concerned, she thought in a haze.

He came closer and whispered something she could not hear. Archer had stopped playing the piano. She sensed he was looking for her. She needed to meditate and go away from this place… the sooner the better. She gently pushed the doctor out of her way and bowed her head lightly.

"I should get back to my quarters. I am not well. Please inform the Captain that I will return to duty asap."

By the time Archer spotted her, she was long gone.

Not even the light of the soothing meditation candle was succeeding in easing her pain. Still another couple of hours before the next shot. Seated on the prayer blanket, she straightened her lotus position and closed her eyes once again in a futile attempt to focus on her katra. She had mastered the technique when she was three and now she merely…

The door chime interrupted her train of thoughts and she silently cursed in Vulcan.

Jonathan.

She still could sense his concern and his tumultuous thoughts. She should have wished him good night instead of leaving him abruptly: she would have avoided yet another unbearable tête à tête.

"Come."

He stood in the doorway, his head slightly bent, and puzzlement on his face. "May I?"

"Please," she said, blowing the candle and standing up in the same motion. She felt naked under his gaze in her Vulcan gown and shivered. She motioned him to the seat and sat on her bed, facing him.

He took a deep breath and opened his mouth but changed his mind. He shook his head and bent to her uncomfortably.

"T'Pol, you know you could talk to me, don't you?"

"Yes."

He looked disappointed. What was his point? He should have understood that the less she needed was that he inflicted his presence upon her. She sighed. She was deluding herself.

How would he know?

She was doing her best at concealing every thought or problem, mainly from him. He was as upset as concerned. She will have to speak out eventually, at least to gain his support for a rendezvous with the Vulcan ship. There was no way she would accept Archer to be a witness to her illness.

He was being patient.

She made a good job at being fascinated by her naked feet for some time and eventually gave him a poor attempt at a smile.

"Thank you, captain."

She was rewarded with a brilliant smile. She should have known he would go for it. Impulsive Humans, always their hearts on their sleeves...

She sighed again.

"I am not ready to confess to you yet," she murmured, avoiding looking him in the eyes. What was wrong with her? He was his commanding officer. There was no way they could have this conversation. It was doctor privilege and Phlox was a vault.

He sprang from his chair, arms spread out. "Confess! What am I to you? A priest? Please relax, T'pol," he added, kneeling in front of her, his hands resting gently on her wrists. "Maybe you could simply /talk/ to me for a start," he laughed.

"I am sorry captain, I am experiencing increasing difficulties at voicing my…"

"Oh! Hush… Nothing can be that bad, sub-commander."

She still could hear the laughter in his voice. Was he trying to cheer her up? Because it was working, she noticed with a quip.

"Maybe you could start with a therapy I put myself to good use years ago. I experienced unsettling thoughts when my father passed away."

She listened carefully. Archer had many stories to tell about Henry Archer but he was very secretive when it came to speak his mind on the subject of his relationship with his father. And it was the first time he mentioned his father's death. His hands squeezed her arms a little, but he was far from realizing it indulged in his memories.

"Actually," he said, looking at her straight in the eyes, "every time I feel blue or lost or both, I sing. I must admit that sometimes it doesn't work, but most of the time, it does the trick."

She was disappointed he had changed his mind, but she could not help but feeling relieved he had not elaborated. Maybe it was not the right place or the right time.

A passing image of the two of them in bed, crying in each other arms, crossed her mind and she jerked from his light touch. She came slowly to the realization that he had planted those thoughts in her mind.

"Well, I guess I have had too much to drink tonight," he said, somehow apologizing for his disturbing thoughts. He stood up and shrugged.

"Indeed. Must I remind you that you sang tonight for Ensign Mayweather's party?"

"Because I seemed the right thing to do."

The right thing to do…

"I see." She did not understand a word he was saying. If singing and playing the piano was a bandage for the soul, why did he play tonight? Humans always seemed to rejoice of celebrating birthdays and throwing parties, even if it never occurred to them it was highly irrational. Celebrating the passing of time even when their lifetime was so limited… Now, it was her turn to be puzzled.

"I would like to join you in your meditation some day, T'Pol. I'm sorry it can't be right now, I guess it would get rid of that hangover. I'm expected on the bridge in less that two hours and I have to sober down."

He turned to the door then changed his mind. "Would you care to join me for a late/early coffee, sub-commander?"

"Coffee has little effect on Vulcan physiology."

"How the hell do you sober down then?"

"Vulcans don't drink, captain…" her voice trailed. She had had several glasses of Champagne at the party.

"I was under a different impression," he joked. "Never mind. If you need me, I'll be in my reading room, nursing my coffee pot."

If you need me?

Wrong choice of words.

She lighted up the meditation candle. "Computer, decrease light," she said, her eyes closed. But the face of Jonathan Archer kept haunting her.

She had no idea how she got onto the turbo lift but here she was, staring at the digits moving past her eyes. She was almost there. She put a hand on the case, the other absently smoothing the creases of her toga.

She should have known it would finally come to this.

To be continued in "The effects of G Key on Vulcan Physiology".

_Note:_

_Archer sings "Not While I'm Around" from the musical by Stephen Sondheim, "Sweeney Todd"._


	9. The Effects of G Key on Vulcan Physiolog

**PART 9**

**The Effects of G Key on Vulcan Physiology**

© Xeen March 2004

_This story is the ninth (and was hopefully) the last instalment of **The Enterprise incident **series. It turned out differently…_

_This stuff takes place in a perfect world with no backrubs or Delphic Expanse, of course… and has not been beta'd… so please, bear with me ;o)_

_Probably best if you read the beginning first but it can be read as a stand alone._

_As usual, Trek ain't mine; I'm just playing with the characters._

Hoshi watched Archer blankly and bit her lower lip.

_/Does she think I'm going to get mad at her… or what? Archer wondered. /_

He was pleased with the fragile ensign finally stepping up and organizing cooking lessons for the crew.

Interesting twist…

He never knew she had the mind and the know-how of a cook. She had even achieved to attract T'Pol in the galley when displaying her vegetarian vision of Japanese cuisine.

And here she was, theorizing on using the pulsing quasars and micro-singularities as communicating buoys. Archer smiled and resisted the temptation to wink.

"I imagine that is a perfectly valid assumption Hoshi. What do you think sub-commander?"

He turned to his first officer with expectation. He had made a point at teasing her for the last four hours without any success…. and now their shift was almost over.

_/I will succeed at making her lose her temper eventually, he thought. /_

That was all he had left. They have been stuck in a boring routine for more than ten days and he needed some action. Aware that making fun of her hieratic unimpressionable Vulcan attitude was childish and compulsive, he cast a glance at T'Pol and managed to hide a smile. She was trying hard not to burst out at his repeated in-jokes.

Nevertheless managing to stay in control, she barely winced and turned to Ensign Sato. "If you are proven to be right eventually, this would be considered as a great improvement, ensign," she stated with a slight bow before returning to her view screen. "I'm picking up a massive disturbance, bearing 5.7, do you wish to investigate, captain?" she added, her voice hoarse, without meeting his eyes not acknowledging the beaming ensign.

Archer stepped up, surprised at her unusual behavior. She was most likely repaying him for his poor attempts at wasting her time and trying to make fun at her expense. "What is it?"

Eager for that most welcome discovery, he leaned over her. He was immediately overwhelmed by the cinnamon and honey scent of her meditation candle and his nostrils quivered. Unconsciously, he took a deep breath to regain his composure, making the scent even more intoxicating. Sexual fantasies involving a very different T'Pol popped up in his mind.

She put the view screen back in its slot and turned to him with an unusual flare in the eye. Their eyes locked for a split second and he felt a tide of emotions reaching out to the surface. He stood up and stepped back in the same motion, feeling odd and embarrassed; the attraction had never been so compelling before that instant and he had to refrain from touching her.

/_What was it with her?_

_She has never had that kind of impact on my libido… Phlox would be happy to learn that he was ultimately right: for absence of relationship and lack of healthy sex, I am falling for my science officer. /_

No.

He was being unfair.

He had known for quite some time that he had grown more and more attracted to her. She was beautiful, she was bright, she was funny… and she was out of reach. In the whole galaxy, he had to fall in love with the one woman who could not return his love.

"Captain? Is there something wrong?" the unreachable Vulcan pushed, sounding more anxious than upset.

"Errr… No, no!"

"It appears to be a star cluster," she trailed, shifting on her chair, sending more signals to Archer.

He frowned and took a good look at her. He could feel that she was on the verge of losing patience. T'Pol, losing patience? That was impossible…

Or was it not?

Could it be a side effect of the Pan'ar syndrome? Things had seemed to be out of hand since that virus attack when he was… away - again. He hated that repeated abduction thing with their new galactic "friends", missing crucial events on Enterprise in the process, but her concerned attention when he had been back was priceless.

"What would you recommend sub-commander?" he asked going back to the reassuring by-the-book CO attitude.

Now that he was a few feet away from her and back in control, he noticed she was somewhat agitated in terms of /_vulcanity_/. She seemed to need extra meditation time to say the least. Brows knitted, he did his best not to look worried and made a mental note to ask Phlox. This time, he would not take that patient/doctor confidentiality bullshit for an answer. T'Pol was clearly in trouble and her condition might put her at risk along with the rest of the crew, not to mention his ship. He blamed himself for trying to make her lose control and focused on her answer. For the first time, he noticed the circles under her eyes.

"Enterprise is in no hurry," she stated matter-of-factly. "I recommend we take a detour and scan the area."

"Any place we could stretch our legs for a while?" he asked, even if he knew the answer to that one. She was so predictable.

"I would not recommend it captain," she stated, her eyebrow raised, her undecipherable eyes meeting his for the first time.

_/Bingo/ _

He hid a chuckle behind his hand.

"Without going through proper procedure, it is virtually impossible to answer your question, captain. One cannot determine whether a landing party should be send and a shore leave organized," she said, utter disdain showing in her voice. "And must I remind you that your tactical officer is still in no condition to put up a response should the landing party or the ship face an attack?"

He nodded.

_/Malcolm. Almost forgot about the poor guy. I will pay him a visit in sickbay. Phlox said he was getting better and better but all his synaptic links had been "fused" when he encountered the sick Vulcan at loose from decon. The Brit was still a bit paranoid, but has he not been ever? While in sickbay, he will try to worm T'Pol's secrets out of the physician. He was the captain, for god's sake/_

"Mr. Mayweather, set a course!" Archer exclaimed, sitting back in the captain's chair. He gazed at the front screen, making every effort not to acknowledge T'Pol's odd behavior. "Let's have a look at that cosmic dust."

He could have bet he heard her groan before she turned her back on him to take another look at the cluster on her view screen.

Archer was no ladies' man but Commander Tucker, Lt Reed or any crewman simply did not match up to him. It seemed that every beautiful woman was instinctively attracted to him. Privilege of rank, he smiled to himself. He did not have a clue of the hows and whys. It simply was this way, since he graduated from the Academy… maybe since College.

So much for the uniform.

He pushed some buttons on the screen and frowned. The image of the 602 and Ruby busy at the bar came out of the blue.

_/He would never have thought of rivaling Trip in all these years. Not his type. What was it with that continuing joke between them, about their children's first names or something/ _

He smiled again, engulfed in his memories.

He was more the once in a lifetime type, even though he was not expecting to come across the perfect woman, romance her, marry her and live happily ever after until death shall part them. For a brief moment in time, he thought he had found her: Rebecca. He was only deluding himself. He was confident that some day, somehow, his soul mate would eventually show up. It seems she finally did. Unexpectedly. And the best course of action was… not to do anything.

As the captain, he knew that '_regs'_ applied to him more than to any other crew member aboard Enterprise. He also knew for a fact that fraternization was to be expected on that kind of ship. Being away from home for extended periods of time was strenuous for the crew morale and he was ready to let the crew bond and much more. But, as a reference figure on Enterprise, he also knew he should comply with higher standards.

Exploring space and set foot where no one has gone before was demanding and Enterprise an exclusive lover. He had taken this mission to heart, yet T'Pol had got in his way.

That was not expected.

He knew he should not have asked her out on a date but he could not resist so great a temptation. Glancing at her in the semi darkness of the movie night, he could not help but finding her desirable. Troubled, he handed her the ball of pop corn and to his utter surprise she took some with her hand.

Her hand…

Wait a minute! Vulcans do not touch food when they eat.

Never.

/With proper discipline, you can achieve anything/

That's what she had said the first time she had a meal at his table. She fought a bread stick the entire time and eventually proved him wrong.

Bewildered, he watched her bite the pop corn and handed her the bowl again, barely noticing Phlox babbling in the distance. That pop corn was acting on her as a charm. Maybe he could compliment Chef for his recipe. He had heard that he was not that pleased to be regarded as the ship's pop corn provider.

However, she was most than willing to share the bowl and he lost track of time.

Was she kidding when she said that she was going to recommend "The Bride of Frankenstein" for the High Council to watch? Why not giving a chance to modern flicks like "The Return of The Jedi's Son"? At least, Terran CGI techniques were far superior to Vulcan's when it came to entertainment!

_/She wants to give Travis MY book for his birthday/ _

An exasperated Archer was pacing his quarters, Surak's works taunting him on the shelf above his bed. The door chimed, stopping him instantly. He spun around, ready to dismiss the untimely visitor. Porthos let a sigh escape him and cast an upset glance to his beloved master.

"Come!" Archer said, and not even slowing for a heart beat, "Trip! I need your help."

"Cap'n, anythin' you need…" Commander Tucker said, sacking down on the nearest chair. "Ya sure 'ave ta give me the chance ta win the next game. I can't feel my arms an' legs…" he trailed, massaging his thighs.

He stopped talking when he noticed the deep furrow on his friend's forehead.

"Wassup?"

"I need to find a present for Travis," the captain snapped back.

"Okay… and? I betcha didn't ask me up here to discuss Travis's present, did ya?"

Archer sighed.

"Sub-Commander T'Pol doesn't know what to give him either. She says… well, you can imagine what she says!" he added, resuming his pacing.

"Sooo… that is all it is about."

"What do you mean?"

"Never mind," Trip shrugged.

"Trip, you don't understand, I need your help!"

Trip winced at his agitated friend and took a good look around him. His quarters were a mess and sweaty sports clothes were piled up about everywhere. Jon had been working out and exhausting himself at the gym. But it obviously had not worked… He shook his head and sighed in unison with Porthos.

"Jes' don't you turn me into a matchmaker please!" he joked.

Archer stopped dead in his tracks and turned to him, infuriated.

"Take it easy!" Trip exclaimed. "To find Travis a present?" he quoted. "It can't be that bad, can it?"

"She wants to give him my Surak's!"

"Your Surak's? For chrissake what is a Surak? What do ya mean?"

"I mean… she wants to give him my b… the same book she gave me when we took that shore leave on Risa."

Archer sat down on the edge of his bed, elbows on his thighs. His head dropped to his chest.

"I guess I'm kind of overreacting here…"

"Yup, kinduv'. Jon, it's only a book! I didn't picture you as the jealous type," Trip said, jumping with a triumphant smile at the obvious conclusion.

"I'm not!" Archer almost yelped, startling Porthos.

He was back on his feet and pacing again. He massaged his neck and fingered his hair, barely avoiding the frontal collision with his ceiling beam.

"Well… You're right."

He shook his head.

"About anything seems to get on my nerves. I'm getting paranoid."

He locked eyes with his friend.

"Not as in Malcolm paranoid Reed!" he added with a nod, eliciting a grin from Trip, "don't get me wrong. She never touched me. I mean… touched me the way she did with Mal!"

Embarrassed, Trip cleared his throat and made a great show at looking at his feet.

"Ya should discuss that with Phlox, Jon."

"Not if I can avoid it. The last thing I need right now is another attempt at Denobulan Freudism."

He violently shook his head again and sacked back down on the bed. "You're right Trip, I will talk to T'Pol."

"Ehh! I never ever hinted that!" Trip protested with a flame in the eye. "Do you still need me, cap'n? I could use some time down in engineerin' if ya don't mind…"

"Sorry Trip… and thank you."

Trip shrugged and stood up.

"Anytime," he said with a bright smile, punching the command on the door.

The door chimed and a very puzzled sub-commander stood still in the doorway, her eyes riveted on the mess in the captain's quarters.

"Maybe, it is not the right time. I will come back."

Her voice was even and she looked as stern and stiff as ever.

"No, no!" Archer yelped, shifting from one foot to the other gesturing Tucker to the doorway at the same time. "If you don't mind the…"

"Untidiness?" said T'Pol as she stepped in, letting the commander left as the same time. "I won't be affected by the odor either. My nasal numbing agent is still functional."

That last stroke made Archer winced.

"Please sit down, sub-commander."

"It won't be necessary. I just came to show you my last survey of the cluster. You were proven to be right ultimately. We will probably find the proper way to refine those crystals we found down there and put their properties to use."

"Good," he said, holding out a hand.

He took a quick look at the PADD and sat it on the corner of the bed.

"How did you call it?"

"I think that given its composition Tellurium/Lithium, naming it Dilithium was an option."

"I'm not questioning that sub-commander, merely stressing that it seems you never came across those crystals before."

"I'm not familiar with every silica-poor "planetesimals" which do not undergo significant parent-body metamorphism during its formation," she said matter-of-factly. "But you are correct. We do not use this type of crystal on Vulcan."

"Good," he repeated, "so I must assume that we made a discovery?"

"Quite correct again, captain. But you have to consider that other species could very well be aware of the existence of these crystals and even manufacture them."

"What do you think?"

"Due to its optical properties, it could very well be used in the construction of our new Deuterium engines."

"I hope that your Vulcan High Command will be willing to share that technology with Earth?"

"It is not my position to answer for the policy of the Vulcan High Command on that matter."

He sighed.

How irritating she was and how accurate at the same time.

"There's something I'd be glad to discuss with you sub-commander."

"I have had no time to investigate Ensign Sato's insight."

He quickly waved her to stop.

"About Travis…"

"Is there a problem with Ensign Mayweather?"

"... his birthday present?" he hinted.

"I can recall that we discussed that matter already."

"Huh… I was thinking that maybe we could come up with something a little more personal that 'Vulcan Flying Escape Patterns Drills for Senior Pilots' or THE Vulcan philosophy treaty. I manage to find this in my stuff."

He took a book from his desk.

"From Earth to Moon?" she questioned him with a puzzled look on her face. "It seems appropriate."

"Jules Verne was a…"

"I know Verne's work captain. You are right. Mr. Mayweather may download the Vulcan database without my help. I am glad that you found the right present for him."

"You think so?" He was beaming.

"Quite." She stood up. "Unless you wish to come to my quarters to meditate, I will go now," she said, retrieving her PADD.

"Have a good night sub-commander. I think I will pass for tonight."

She arched an eyebrow.

"Very well."

The door slid shut behind her swift silhouette.

Archer checked the bridge.

The screen was black and void: no asteroid for the next twenty light years. Malcolm was back to his post. He had reviewed the last 72 hours report in no time. He was presently updating his data on the console and was paying little attention to his crewmates.

"You sure?" Archer asked Reed again.

Even with the physician assurance that his tactical officer was back to his normal self, he could not help but being cautious.

Two minds in one body?

No.

Not in his book, especially when it came to his tactical officer, the one he would have to rely upon in case of any attack on Enterprise. Phlox had talked him into complex mind transfers, very common in Vulcan medical history from what he understood. The physician had probably better eyes and ears than his captain since he had been spending several hours looking for that 'katra" he had discovered and was so thrilled about.

Archer was not eager either in allowing extra mind exchanges now that T'Pol's syndrome was proven to be incurable. Once again, Phlox assured him he had taken every precaution and that the Pan'ar virus was unlikely to mutate and to be transmitted to human. Something with copper based… whatever. From the explanation he had gathered, it looked more like a vampire act to him.

He almost got the giggles.

The Bride of Dracula…

"Quite sure, captain. I must catch up on my work and reset all alarm procedure. I will have to make another drill…" was Reed's confident answer.

"Not now Malcolm. If you're sure you don't want to attend the party, then, I'm on my way. The bridge is yours!"

"Aye, aye captain," answered the formal officer without another thought.

Archer turned his back to him and entered the turbolift.

Malcolm had something on his mind… They would have to sort that out when the party is over. He shrugged. Tomorrow is another day, he thought, straightening and adjusting his collar.

The party was a true success. Archer did not expect to have so much fun. T'Pol was not showing though. He was hesitating on which course of action would be best. He did not want to make her come over if she was not willing to. Unconsciously, he was enforcing his scrutiny upon every short haired woman in the mess hall. He finally made it to the doorway, sort of hoping that she will eventually show up would he be near the entrance.

He was even ready to go and get her in her quarters, at least see why she had changed her mind.

He was tossing nervously the small package from one hand to another, smiling profusely around. A chance that the king of the party was not yet arrived either. He noticed that most of the crew was in their civvies. Hoshi was stunning in her traditional bird and butterfly on a snowy mountain kimono. Even more exotic was Phlox in his glimmering beige tunic. He wished he had had more time to change. What if T'Pol was in those Vulcan ceremony robes? He could not wait. He was feeling like a teenager on the night of the prom.

"Here you are, sub commander!"

He heard himself almost shout and took her by the elbow to hide his trouble. Even in her everyday outfit, she was outstanding. He had never been that keen on those robes anyway. He managed to get to the buffet. Now that the quiet humming of the engines was concealed by the music of the party, it could have been any conventional party on Earth. Except that on Earth, no Vulcan would ever have attended such a party.

He was glad she had.

He had chosen the finest champagne from the Captain's cellar and was enticingly holding out the glass to his second in command. He was perfectly aware that Vulcan did not drink wine but she had had a taste of Hoshi's chocolate cake during this afternoon before party ultimate cooking lesson and Vulcans were not known for having a sweet tooth either.

He pushed again. She was not only reluctant to take the glass, there was coyness to her he was not accustomed to.

"Won't you change your mind and try this, sub-commander?" he said, leaning down on her shoulder, his mouth to her ear.

He could almost feel the sparkles bubbling on his chin. He found it hard to breathe when the smell of the wine entwined with her personal spicy odour.

"I'm quite certain captain. I have some more research to do."

Now, she was going to give him the busy science officer speech. The hell with cluster, dilithium and singularities!

"I should probably get back to my quarters."

He felt overwhelmed by the urge to take her in his arms and protect her. There was definitely something wrong.

"You're teasing me, aren't you?" he said, managing to take control of his emotions that came rushing dangerously near the surface. She shuddered and shifted from one foot to another to finally clasp her hand on his sleeve.

"I was simply teasing you, sub-commander," he took her by the arm and managed to get a good look at her. Her complexion had turned a deeper shade of bronze and her gaze was unsteady. She almost looked as a drunken Vulcan.

A drunken Vulcan? She was staring at him, her eyebrow half rocketing under her hair.

"You do think I should give this beverage a try?"

There was definitely something Phlox was hiding from him. He knew that Cutler had given her regular shots since that unfortunate episode with Reed. He might find Phlox and get the truth out of him.

The sooner, the better…. T'pol had a shadow of a smile on her face.

A smile?

He said the first thing that came to his mind. Something he had heard when he was too young to drink champagne.

"Champagne is not really alcohol, more like wine."

_/It is wine, you, idiot! Come on, say something articulate for once/ _

"Take a sip. I won't take no for an answer… not this time."

_/Come on Archer, it that all you can come up with? That's the most pathetic lines I've ever heard. Amazing that so little champagne and a beautiful Vulcan can turn you into a plain fool. You're making her blush. _

_Find Phlox._

_Now. /_

"There is a small amount of alcohol in wine."

She was sick but not beaten, he thought. He had to find out what was going on. Before he had the chance to argue about it, Hoshi went between him and the sub-commander, turmoil of fluid silk.

"I shall be happy to give you a full Vulcan physiology class, Captain."

Phlox's comment went unheard by the Vulcan. She was gone.

Archer felt his good mood was suddenly deserting him. He turned to the unpredictable doctor, ready for some action. Speak of the devil….

"Here comes the cake, Captain," was his immediate reward.

Someone started to sing and the whole mess hall was soon echoing with the sound of music. Archer sang along, a bit too loud.

He felt on edge. T'Pol's attitude had made him worry and he won't let go of Phlox before he had sorted the whole thing out.

Now that everybody was kissing everybody, the mess hall was turning into a mix of New Year's Eve and birthday party. Travis was beaming and managed to blow all the candles but one, eliciting some more uproar from his female crewmates. Archer made his way to him and handed him the book. He was snatched and before he knew, he was seated in front of a piano he had never seen in his life.

"Surprise!" said Trip's voice to his ear. "Now, it's time to paaaarty, cap'n!" he added with a pat on his shoulder. "Come on, play something inviting for us, poor forbidden crew stranded in the most remote quarter of the quadrant! I bet Hoshi can use a good dancing partner tonight, if ya know wut I mean!" he added with a wink.

Archer spotted T'Pol. She was talking to Cutler and Travis. Elisabeth will have it under control, he thought, his mind hazed because of champagne. He put his hands on the keyboard and began to play. He saw Trip granting him a thumb up and leaving his view to look for Hoshi. Someone put another glass on the piano and he let himself engulf in the music. He had missed playing the piano… and singing. Before he knew, he had already played half of his Sondheim, all his Gershwin and was making an encore of "Pick-a-Little" from the Music Man.

When he finally stopped and faced the frenetic applause from the crew, the party was almost through and T'Pol long gone.

He was glad he had made it in one piece to the quiet of the bridge.

Even through the haze of Champagne, he was able to feel Reed's disapproval of his being back clearly intoxicated.

What the hell! It was the middle of the C shift, he needed to watch the stars in full panavision… and for the love of God, she was his ship, not Malcolm's!

Tonight, he had every right.

He sacked down on the Captain's chair and did everything he could to avoid the half angry stare of his officer. He shot a quick glance to the scientific station.

What ever happened to his resolution of grilling the good doctor until he managed to get out of him the full debriefing on T'Pol's condition? He sighed and let himself be caught in the magnificence of the flying stars facing him.

Tomorrow.

First thing tomorrow.

He will make Phlox summon his first officer to sickbay and will join them over there. He pondered that if the patient herself was willing to let the physician unveil her condition, there should be no more confidentiality attached.

He knew they were not out of the woods yet. T'Pol had been acting weird for weeks now and he was tired of having the whole situation out of his hands. As far as he was concerned, she had been a threat to Reed and to Phlox, since he had gathered contradictory information about some repairs Trip had to make in decon.

He lost track of time. The smooth sound of the powerful engines was soothing to his mind. As he was sobering down, he had second thoughts about forcing the physician and the Vulcan to the full disclosure he had first envisioned.

It was a matter of trust and he was certain that the physician would not withhold information from him should it endanger Enterprise and her crew. He suddenly felt more relaxed as the burden was taken off his shoulders. The hiss of the turbolift doors startled him out of his reverie. He turned to the noise and got up, walking absently towards T'Pol.

"Sub-commander?"

T'Pol was in full ceremonial mode. Her dark beige robe was making her look more imposing that her usual outfit. There was a fire burning in her eyes.

She stepped out of the turbolift carrying a case that seemed bigger than her. Reed immediately stood up, ready to defend the bridge and the captain. Archer gave him a reassuring nod and silenced him with the hand.

"T'Pol? Can we assist you?"

Demonstrating her strength, she held the case in front of her, presenting it to Archer.

"I have come to perform the to rang temur t'hy'la of kunat kali-fee for you," she said in a harsh voice.

"Very well. Do you need my assistance?" Archer asked again.

As for Reed, he was obviously eager to assist him. His hand was reaching out to the concealed weapon he knew the tactical officer duct taped hidden under his console. He nodded again, asking him to postpone any aggressive move.

"I do not," T'Pol slightly bowed and proceeded to open the case and unfold whatever was inside.

Reed was on tenterhooks. Shifting from one foot to the other and glancing from the captain to the Vulcan. His recent experience was haunting him and the last thing he was wishing to witness was another intimate violent assault. In his will to prevent it, he ignored the second hiss and unexpectedly faced Hoshi who was exiting the turbolift.

She stopped instantly. Archer motioned her to go quietly to her station. She did, swiftly gliding on her traditional wooden shoes not even uttering a sigh. What was she doing here in the middle of this shift was beyond him. Was not she supposed to be Trip's date for the evening?

Turning his attention back to the Vulcan petite woman, he discovered she had unpacked a bizarre set of strings and metallic pipes. She sat down on a small stool and began to get the instrument tuned. Relieved, Mal sat back down at his station. Don't go to the party and the party will come to you. He gave Hoshi a big wink and waited for the show to begin.

And it began.

That was the most unbearable series of sounds any human had ever heard. A true anguish passed on Hoshi's face and Reed tried to put his hands on his hears to stop the pain but collapsed.

Archer felt unsteady and underwent a wave of nausea. Swaying uncomfortably, he stumbled upon his chair. His eyes were about to pop out of their orbits and his guts to turn into jelly. He clasped his hands on the armrests and took a deep breath in a useless attempt to stop his head from spinning. He barely heard Hoshi calling sickbay.

"Doctor, you should probably help us here on the bridge."

"Could you elaborate, please?" Phlox answered with his usual jovial tone.

"This is the sub-commander, doctor Phlox," said Hoshi, trying her best to cover T'Pol's music. "I don't know what to do," she whispered before she turned the communication off.

Archer mouthed a silent thank you to the ensign and did his best to cover his ears while the physician was hurrying to the bridge.

That was his entire fault. He had no idea that performing some live music would make her react the way she was….

… he perfectly knew though that Vulcan never, n-e-v-e-r, had any alcohol beverage.

Now he knew why.

There was definitely a lot he intended to talk to his 2IC and the ship's physician before the shift is over.

To be continued in "When Meditation Fails".


	10. When Meditation Fails

**PART 10**

**When Meditation Fails**

© Xeen - May 2005

_This story is the 10th and last instalment of **The Enterprise incident **series. _

_This stuff takes place before The Expanse and has not been beta'd and therefore subject to change._

_I doubt that you can read this one as a stand alone though…_

_As usual, Trek ain't mine; I'm just playing with the characters._

"Archer to Tucker!"

"Aye Sir," Trip responded instantly, pressing the com on the wall of his quarters. What a night! First the party then his fight with Hoshi because of a stupid pattern on her kimono and now the Captain calling for him in the middle of C shift…

"Please report immediately to my ready room!"

It was yet six hours before he was on duty but it was not Jon's way to call that late for nothing. Feeling somewhat concerned about his engines, he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong but decided against it. Jon sounded pretty upset already.

"On my way, sir. Tucker out," he said instead and slipped in his crumpled uniform. He had no time to retrieve a clean one from the re-sequencer. Bah! That was not as if he was going to come across anyone on the ship at this time of night, he thought, giving his sleeves a rapid look in the mirror before rushing to the turbolift and up to the bridge.

Next time, he shall think twice… or thrice or a hundred times more before letting his inborn hopeless southern romantic nature get in the way of logic.

The fact that a young and brilliant officer would have a Vulcan as his superior officer on the maiden voyage of the first flag ship from Earth was barely one in a zillion.

The chance for an officer from Earth to spend three days down on Strillia for a well deserved shore leave was not even a remote option only a year back.

The opportunity that this young brilliant southern officer would have had to miraculously stumble upon a stock of aromatic candles leftover by a Ferengi trader was close to the absolute zero.

So what the hell was he thinking when he bought that stock on an irrepressible impulse, that, he could not tell. Maybe, the brilliant officer could have imagined that this would be what a young Asian person he knew would do, knowing that this particular Vulcan first officer was running dangerously low on her own candle stock.

Yup, exactly.

Next time this afore mentioned brilliant officer should pathetically attempt to act as a perfect gentleman and should think of offering the aforesaid candles with no special intention but being nice to a Vulcan lady, please, feel free lock him up in the brig along with the candles and lose the key, for crying out loud!

Trip glanced up to the Denobulan and winced.

"How was I supposed to know that?" he protested slackly, feeling like a slimy bug under the doctor's scrutiny.

"Maybe you should have come to me first. I would have gladly performed a thorough analysis," the doctor said overtly mocking him.

"So much for the surprise," Trip whispered between his teeth, "… well, doc, it's not like these Vulcans haven't been around for a while…" he trailed, "it's a miracle that they are even still around!" he realized out loud.

"I cannot discuss doctor-patient information with you, commander."

Trip could not say whether the physician was joking or not. His face was undecipherable.

The captain rapped absently on his desk and gave another worried look to T'Pol, who was resting on his coach.

"Doctor, you sure she'll be all right?" asked Trip in a low voice.

"One hundred percent, commander. I gave her quite a strong dose of anti-allergic serum and she should not even remember what happened in the first place. Tomorrow will prove to be quite interesting from the crew point of view though," he added with glee.

"How come we did not find out about those allergies before?" Trip exploded. "It's been a while since I gave those candles to her. Shouldn't we have noticed something?" he asked, facing his fellow officers. Even to his ears, that was really close to desperation.

Hoshi blushed and made every effort to avoid to lock eyes with him.

Travis suddenly found the floor the most interesting thing to watch in the entire room, Phlox fiddled with his medical PADD and Reed tried to turn into a wax museum tactical officer.

Oh oh…

It sounded like he was not the only one guilty on this one, he thought with relief.

"Not a big deal, anyway," he finally said, thinking he could at least grasp five hours of good sleep before going back to thinking over the unpleasant episode or rather do as if nothing ever happened and eradicate it from his memories, "she sang a few songs, made an ass of herself and what? She won't be the first one!"

He was not going to be court-martialed over a bunch of cinnamon and honey candles. Let's cut the crap and kiss the all thing good night for Pete's sake!

"That is my first officer you are referring to, commander," Archer said with a fierce look. Guilt was painted all over his face.

This one is as responsible as the rest of us and Phlox's merely trying to lay that on me. Fine, why not? Tomorrow is another day.

He wiggled and made a poor attempt at apologizing but Hoshi silenced him with a hush. He winked back thanks at her and was rewarded by a vigorous nod, a frown and a distant look. She was still mad at him but she was trying to pass something along. His guess was that there was something more than music at stake.

"Would you like me to arrange for the sub-commander to be transferred to sickbay, captain?" asked Phlox after what seemed an endless silence. The captain, completely oblivious of their presence, had resumed his absent minded rapping.

The doctor cleared his throat with no success.

Travis and Hoshi looked more than ever like two Academy ensigns caught in some forbidden action by their commanding officer.

Reed straightened his position, clasping his hands in his back, waiting for the inevitable reprimand. The captain had not been briefed after "his" incident with T'Pol and he was ready to take the blame for what happened to her.

"No doctor, she will stay here. I will watch her for the rest of the night. You're dismissed. You are all dismissed."

Archer seemed tired and vulnerable, like his world had been knocked over. The perfect antithesis of the captain Trip had made a point at observing these past few days,

Reed seemed disappointed but quietly left the captain's ready room. Hoshi and Travis exchanged meaningful glances and followed his lead.

Phlox seemed reluctant but he complied with a nod. "I want to see her in sickbay first thing in the morning, captain,"

Archer nodded absently. "You will, doc."

The door hissed open and he left.

Trip swayed from one foot to the other. "Something you would like to discuss with me Jon?" he tried.

"Please, sit."

He sat on the chair facing both T'Pol who was now fast asleep and breathing heavily because of sedation and his long time friend. And he waited. He bit the inside of his cheeks to keep quiet and was on the verge of bursting out into questions when Jon said something very softly. And he missed it.

"Sorry?"

"I said I knew her."

"Is that some kind of a riddle, cap'n, 'cause I could use some sleep right now."

"I knew her Trip. Way before we left docks… before I even saw her in Starfleet Command."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Archer sighed deeply and rested against his armchair. He closed his eyes, collecting his thoughts. "I knew her. Back in the 602 days. Remember the mysterious woman I talked you about?"

Trip gasped. Jon had spent hours elaborating on that woman. The lady from the jazz club, the one who always sat in the dark corner and ordered beers she never touched.

T'Pol? No way.

He could not even begin to imagine what Jon must have gone through when she had been assigned to Enterprise. Something like "_g__o to jail, go directly to jail, do not pass Go, do not collect 200 dollars_".

There she was, the woman of his dreams, and not only was she a Vulcan, she was coming in the way of his dream. For once, Trip was out of words.

Archer was back to introspection mode, as still as a statue. T'Pol moaned and Trip started at the sound of her husky voice. Archer turned to grey.

"Don't blame yourself, Jon," Trip finally said, "what were the odds, anyway? 'ah say yah gonna be fine. Yah both gonna be fine," he added with an intended drawl.

He clasped his hands on his knees and winced.

Archer did not move.

Trip stood up. "I guess I'll be on my way, ring me if yah need anythin'."

Archer nodded absently.

Trip punched the lock and strode outside.

"Trip."

"Cap'n…"

"Thank you."

"Anytime, cap'n."

THE END

Star Trek est la propriété de UPN/Paramount Pictures -

Star Trek and all other related items are trademarks of Paramount Pictures


End file.
